In a wolf's eyes
by ohatwrites
Summary: A Jaqen H'ghar and Arya Stark FanFiction. Do not copy
1. Chapter 1

Author's note (A/N)

SETTING: Arya's travel to the wall (GOT 2nd season)

IMPORTANT: Arya is 14 here and the Night's watch also take women

This is my first GOT FanFic so I really have no idea how terrible this FanFic would be. Reviews would be much appreciated. Thank you. The first three to five chapters would not entirely focus on Jaqen x Arya.

~ Cel

Chapter 1

"You stay here with this lot boy. And stay. Or I'll lock you in the back o' the wagon with these three." Yoren growled then shoved Arya closer to the said wagon. At the time she was an arm away, two prisoners tried to grab her. The one who had no nose cackles as she shamefully fell onto her arse while the gross fat bald one only opened his mouth, (attempting to laugh, she had found out) but made no sound.

How ridiculous! Arya scoffed inwardly.

"Come here... There still lots of room for you." The noseless taunted. She pushed herself to her feet and scowl at the two.

It was just then, that she became aware of the third captive, observing silently at the very corner of the wagon. Though he's wearing hood, she could still see red wavy hair peeking out and a hint of smile playing on his lips.

She was about to take Needle out, send a warning to these three when a woman's shrills broke into the field, stopping everyone at once. Behind the wailing woman were a bunch of men and women, their babes and little children walking hand in hand.

A little girl suddenly sing-sang, her sweet voice making Arya froze.

"At the great Sept, the Winterfell falls

Traitor, traitor! Oh! The crowd sings

Bring me his head! The king of gold calls

Traitor, traitor! Oh! Still the crowd sings

The Starks, the wolves where are they?

The North, the North who shall we obey?!

In frost and blood, they'll be remembered

The wolves, soon, they'll be dead and gone,

The Starks and dear Winterfell,

Be all dead and long gone"

As silence screamed throughout the field, Yoren slammed the still shocked Arya to the nearest wall. Blood was pouring out of her left hand. She must have sliced it from clutching Needle.

"There's no room for weakness, boy." He started as he wraps cloth onto her hand, her blood soaking it at instance. Instead of feeling the sharp sting, or be horrified, she cannot feel anything. Yet, tears began wetting her cheeks.

Shaking her lightly, he harshly whispered.

"Be that. And anyone with the chance would strangle you in your own sobs and drown you in your own tears." His eyes piercing deeply through her grey ones, she willed herself to move and nod, stating she clearly heard.

"I understand." said she. And I know.

"Good. Remember, you are Arry, the orphan boy." Feeling obliged, she nods again. "Now, stop sniffing and carry two of those bread baskets."

After one last glance (She could not figure out if it's of pity or disappointment) Yoren walks away.

The Starks and dear Winterfell, be all dead and long gone. Words still echoing in her head, she sauntered towards the baskets unfortunately, sitting nearly from the wagon.

The third prisoner, his hood now wore down, was following her with a questionable intense in his eyes, smiling no more, still and unreadable. He saw her cry. She was sure of it. Spine straighter, chin up, she returned his gaze and stepped in front of him.

"What are you staring at?" She asks with a crackling voice and cursed herself repeatedly for not clearing her throat first. The man only smiles kindly.

"Nothing, lovely boy" he said. She clenched her jaws to show her disapproval. Besides of his casual and too comfortable pose that irritated her the most, she also hates she found this man good-looking. She doesn't like it at all. She threw him more hateful looks earning a chuckle from the man. Embarrassed, she stalked away.

Arya is on the verge of losing her sanity on their 16th day. The roads are worst, rocky and during the rain, they have to stop, the wagons too heavy to cross. Towns to small villages, they travel. Few villagers offered them loaves of bread, frozen meat, a basket of peach and so forth.

An old lady, reminding her of old Nan, aged but keen and proud in manners approached their marching band unsteadily and handed them a small barrel of wine "When you young men seek to forget and found no friend"

Yoren assigned Hot pie, Arya and Pale to take charge of the meals.

Pale is a lady of four and twenty born in the South but her merchant master, Arnid, brought her to the North. She was five when Arnid bought her from her foster mum after Pale's father passed away.

With the help of Gendry, Arya would hunt, Hot pie would cook, and Pale would distribute.

Five mornings ago, she shot a deer. Skinny one compared to her own kind but huge in the eyes of men. Both were surprised when they came out of their own hiding spots. Arya was still catching her breath when the deer skimped away and injured itself. The animal lying motionless on the ground, Arya laughed to herself as she realized that the deer passed out; a too easy shot.

Hot pie marinated the legs in peach juice, wine and roasted them after. A huge meaty leg was reserved for her alone. She shared half of the deer's meat to the three prisoners.

"A man and his companions could not thank you enough." said Jaqen, the red haired Lorathi as Arya handed them their suppers. "Two mornings ago, rabbits and grains for three, last night you provided us cloth to clean and leaves to tend our wounds. Not to mention of the other days..."

She shrugged. "It just happened that we had too much" The Lorathi nods but in truth, he knows that this lovely boy is up to something. They've been having a few short conversations for the past few days, asking him lots of question but earning nothing from her.

He bowed his head before Arya returned to her small group of friends.

Dark clouds and stars, their own glows almost invisible as if they are tired, were staring down at them. Sitting by the fire, Gendry had been watching the Lorathi and Arya's interaction, like he always does. He noticed how strangely good Arya treated the prisoners. Especially of how she is to the Lorathi

"You're being too nice to them." he said as she sat beside him. Receiving nothing from her, he went on. "They're from the black cells...From the looks of them, there's no doubt they had murdered many, stole from the poorest and weakest, or..." he paused, his chest tightening as he remembers the glances Jaqen make when Arya's unaware. He whispered at her ears "rape little girls..."

She rolled her eyes, getting more fond and annoyed at him all at the same time, almost regretting of telling him the truth. She leaned closer to him and whispered back.

"Don't mention I'm a girl ever again, Gendry. Never. " She sat back and threw more twigs at the fire. "And no, I am not being nice. I'm being wise." she continued. "These prisoners are going to be our brothers as soon as we reach the wall; the ones who would have our backs when trouble comes. Don't want any of these dangerous men to slit your throat while you snore just for treating them horribly on our way there, right?"

Needle lying on the ground, Arya leaned back to a nearby tree and glance at the night sky before sharpening her blade. Besides whispering the names she ought to kill, Yoren's words have also been part of her prayers; there's no room for weakness, boy. Especially for you, Arya Stark

A/N Hope you liked it. And could I just say, my Jaqen x Arya fantasies felt threatened after GOT 5 finale? I thought Jaqen died! I mean, I can't. I just can't, man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It was a gloomy afternoon, the sky resembling the color of Arya's eyes and the trees rustling as a stream of cold air looms over. Arya, not having a bath for three days, is praying for a rain. She could smell herself from her filthy, lousy blouse, and her hair sticking all over her face and her bony nape.

Their group stopped to set a camp.

"Let me cook!" Pale insisted and glowers at Hot Pie. She placed both hands on her hips and fixed her eyes to him, as if daring him to deny her. Hot Pie stepped in front of the wooden table where his pots, cutting boards, half-peeled potatoes are laid out and puffed his stuffed chest.

"Yoren made me the cook!" He proudly said.

"You cook longer than usual!" She whined, earning various nods from the growing crowd. "We don't care bout' the meats so thinly and precisely cut.." and then snatches the ladle from Hot pie's left hand and smack it lightly in his right cheek. "And we don't care bout' the taste either as long as it's hot!" Another slap, left cheek this time "Now, move aside, kid." Hot Pie only grunts, no longer have a choice for Pale took a knife and waved it at him like it wasn't sharp, gesturing him to go away. Pale, like everybody else watching the scene, stifles a laugh as they noticed how truly annoyed Hot pie is getting while caressing his reddening cheeks.

"Oh Hot pie, did I hurt your cheeks?..." She cooed and kneads them earning rich chuckles around. "Your poor chubby cheeks…." Embarrassed and irritated for the mocking, he growled and spluttered his next words

"Women! Always getting what they want!" And then stomped away

Before Arya could stop herself, she remembers Rickon doing the same thing whenever she refused to carry him on her back before running to their Father. _Father_. Her chest tightens. _Slow breaths. Breathe again._

"What are you doing?" Pale asked

"Nothing. You need something?"

"Hmmm. You could start pouring them ale." Arya grabs the pitcher under the wooden table and ask if she's alright doing all the cooking. "Very much. Thanks for asking, sweetheart. Go on now, I'll be finished in no time." She assures her and glanced around. "And maybe I'll slip a few more meat and potatoes too in your bowl."

"More ale, pimple!" Rorge demanded Arya and spits at her.

"You already had enough and I'm not your servant, you filth!" Arya exploded and kicked at the wagon. Jaqen suppress a laugh. _Lovely boy_ never failed to amuse him. Before another quarrel breaks out, he interjected.

"A man is curious." And then looked meaningfully at Rorge and Biter who are still waiting for their ale that would never come, implying he doesn't want them to hear whatever he's curious about. They caught his eye and crawled at the far corner. But not before Rorge muttering _"you little shit and fucking pimple"_ to Arya.

Jaqen continued "A man could not stop wondering, what a lovely boy, so young and small, could have done to end up with a herd of criminals and to be sworn to the Nightwatch?"

"I killed one fat boy." The Lorathi raised his eyebrows and mutters "Interesting. And what about your family?"

"Don't have one anymore" she replied in a neutral voice. _Careful and calm._ She thought. "More ale?" He held his tankard out of the wagon. After a sip or two, the Lorathi questions her again.

"Aren't you afraid of a man, lovely _boy_?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Perhaps, you should…" Feeling discomfort where their conversation is going, she dismissed him with a shrug and ought to walk away but the Lorathi called out quietly before she could take her third step. "Lovely _girl,…_ "

Arya immediately stopped and stood still but felt no surprise. She was already aware that he knows for a long time now. Not just her being a girl but also a _Stark_. Inexperienced she may be, but not stupid. She thought if she shows him she means no harm, offering him what she could offer, befriending him even, she thought he would not mention it and would keep his mouth closed. She faced Jaqen but avoided his eyes. _Please. Don't. Not now._ Now _that I'm so closed to Jon_. She panics. Looking down gravely to the ground, she softly asked him. "What would you do now?"

"The question, _lovely girl,_ is what would _you_ do now?" She did not hear the sadness and full curiosity in his voice. Only the threat coming in her path

 _Gods, what would I do?_ Not a single thing came to mind but her family.

 _"Now, what are you two arguing this time?" Catelyn Stark entered the kitchen, Father and all their brothers trailing behind "Sure all North as well as the South could hear you both screaming!"_

 _"Look at what Arya have done, mother!" Sansa angrily showed a tattered gown and dripping with brown liquid. Soy sauce, their mother could tell. "This is what I would wear at the dance tomorrow night! I heard- "_

 _"You heard," Arya cut off her sister "that Joffrey fancies blue and gold that was why you insist your dressmaker to-"_

 _"To create one," continued Jon with a grin "In spite that those colours are not commonly worn in a royal celebration and that-" He looked at Rob and wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully_

 _"And that if he saw you in that ludicrous gown, dear Prince would not have a second thought that yes you are dearest and charming and surely destined to be a Queen." The eldest had finished contently. Not quite finished yet, Arya and Bran stepped over their dining table and shouted playfully "And we unfortunately heard and we heartily do not care!"_

 _"Mowr, Mowr" Rickon bubbles incomprehensively asking for more and claps while clinging at their Father's leg._

All she wanted is to reunite her family but why does the world appears to be against it? What have their family had done to receive such…misfortune? Everywhere she looked, there's always an enemy, a threat that should be eliminated.

"I will burn your damn cage." she simply said and lifts up her gaze to Jaqen. "I'll stand here outside and watch as flames swallow you whole. I'll watch them creep deep into your bones and turn you into ashes." She moves across Jaqen. "And if there any remains of you….I will bury you myself with all of my secrets."

Time stopped. Neither of them moves nor looked away until a thunder struck and droplets of rain started to fall. Without another word, Arya strolls into the woods, trembling and stunned of herself. Maybe she had gone too far. Maybe this isn't the way to defend herself.

Under the murky sky, she promised Jaqen one thing. His death. Gone was the little girl Jaqen first saw; shocked, disarranged, grieving and broken.

He saw it in her eyes.

He felt it.

Arya Stark could kill him.

And she would.

A/N The next chapter would be a continuation but there would be no Jaqen, only Arya and Pale. I want to introduce Pale to you guys. Thanks to those who favorited and followed already. Means much to me J


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Continuation *No Jaqen here but we got to know a bit of Pale.**

"There you are!" Pale exclaimed, her velvet hair emerging from the bushes.

 _I'm being surrounded with red haired people lately._ Arya sarcastically thought but relieved it was Pale who found her.

 _"_ You have not eaten yet. But worry not, I saved my promised bowl of potatoes and meat for you. What happened, sweet boy?"

"Nothing. Came here to catch some fish"

"I'm not a fool! I see no lake, river nor a pond nearby, Arry."

"Sorry." Pale sighed and sat on the grass beside Arya.

"What is it? Is it the prisoners? I told you not to get too close from that wagon." She did not respond. "Hmmm. The red haired bastard, isn't it? I saw you speaking to him. Again" After a moment of contemplation Arya finally spoke.

"He found out something about me" When Pale did not respond, she asked her if does she not wonder what it is

"Would you tell in all honesty if I asked?" Arya nods and took a gulp. "What is it then?"

Pale is the kind of person you should not consider to lie to and as far as Arya knows, she _despised_ liars. _Nothing comes good from a lie but another lie._ Pale preached at them in her very own intimidating demeanor.

She told Pale that she's not with them because she killed a boy. Yoren knows nothing of it till now, in fact. She was not sold either. She was supposed to sail back home but her father got killed. Murdered Then Yoren came out of nowhere and promised, she supposed, to bring her to her brother instead at the Great wall. She inhaled deeply for courage "That brother is Jon Snow. I was born in Winterfell and named….Arya Stark….I'm Lord Stark's youngest daughter."

Only the glimmer from Pale's lamp could be seen in the now dark woods. Arya could not tell if Pale's brows are contorted or if she's gritting her teeth in anger and disappointment.

"Stop fidgeting. I already know." Pale shushed her before she could speak. "I followed you once and saw you make your water."

"Why didn't you mentioned that?!"

"Well, you never mentioned you have a _cunt_ either! It only means you don't want me to know about you yet. I'm just waiting. But it was more of a _confirmation_ than a revelation." Arya asked what does she mean.

"The first time I saw you. You looked familiar so I watched your every move and then a thing flickered in my mind" Pale revealed she had been a server at their castle. "But I quit a few days after I heard the Night's watch was recruiting. Anyway, I was instructed to bring tea to a little group of girls. That's when I saw you. Ragged, scornful and boredom printed all over your face while that ancient Lady of yours praise the natural talent of your sister in needlework." She laughs softly. "I could _exactly_ remember your disdain, I remember thinking, _This girl, we would get along so well._ _Both could not take blushes, giggles and praises. Or flowers, songs and princes_ "

"You should have told me!"

"And what? Frighten you? Besides, we weren't that close before like we are now when I remembered. And you were busy grieving and hating. Not that I blame you. You have the right to mourn. And never ever think that it's wrong to protect yourself. You could _look_ at me like a big sister, Arya if you wanted to. But,"

Pale grabs her chin and leveled their eyes to assure she's listening carefully. "Treat me only like a comrade but never a family. Don't get attached. I don't want you to nor I to you. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy you, Arya. I sincerely do. I could see myself in you, in fact." She lets go of her then sighed and looked at the night sky.

"I just have this way of thinking that most people think deep connections would make them stronger. But not for me. Gods, especially not for me! Attachments won't give us strength but a sense of security; someone walking at your side and watching your back. They'll give you the feeling of not being lonely and deserted. But if you let your guard down, as you let these deep connections take over your life, you'll also let yourself live for others. You'll fight not for your life but for those who you love and care for. But not because you don't want to lose them but because you don't want to be on your own. You'll die for them and then what? You will be remembered and thanked for? That won't last long. They already buried you deep, you'll rot and soon would be forgotten.

The one you have saved and pledged to save would die in the end. What's the point of risking your life for others when everybody's destined to die? You just have to wait for your time to come. With that, you'll be peaceful. As death is supposed to be. Attachments would make you weak, aching and painfully stupid, Arya. And if you're already are, by just the flaps of a pigeon's wings you would crashed down, too preoccupied of your feelings you didn't see an _unfair_ death poking at you."

The night might have been tranquil with the crickets singing and the calm wind embracing them both if it's not of the sorrowful conversation they are having.

"You might not understand now but you will someday. You hear me, Arya Stark?" Pale side glances

"Yes."

"Good." Pale broke into a smile and clapped twice "Now, my lady, don't overthink too much. It won't do you any good. Eat. Get rest. Tomorrow will be long and dull."

It must not have been more than four hours of Arya sleeping when a horn blew, sounding danger.

"Get up you sorry sons of Whores!" Yoren threw swords, knives and sticks and anything sharp within his reach, looked at Pale then at Arya and her friends before heading out.

"They came back!" Hot Pie shrieks while Lommy surprisingly cries in front of them

"You pussy!" accused Pale then grabs Arya and Gendry by the arm and ordered Hot Pie and pussy Lommy at the back door. "Grab anything you can. Make _sure_ you kill _all_ coming our way for fucks sake!"

xxx


End file.
